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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301183">To the Darkness of My Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fastern/pseuds/Fastern'>Fastern</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fix-It, M/M, Post-Episode AU: s15e18 Despair, Sexual Content, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:26:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fastern/pseuds/Fastern</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"See, the stench of that Impala's all over your overcoat, angel."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To the Darkness of My Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I only got into Supernatural recently. After 15 years of it airing. I never watched it in 15 years.</p><p>I willingly got into this mess knowing how it ends. I've sunk so low.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the way home, Castiel slept in the Impala's backseat.</p><p>Dean was in the throes of a fever dream—a visceral dream that left him shaky and clammy. He trembled all over, like he had in the first year of knowing Castiel, when his entire being cinched when he appeared. That existential dread that this angel—this terrifying, all-powerful angel—could destroy them with a flick of his hand and lead armies against hell and humanity. He contrasted the image to the angel dozing in the backseat.</p><p>He wrung his hands on the steering wheel, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road as the Impala’s headlights sliced through the night. Dean couldn’t stop swearing under his breath, reciting a litany of ‘fucks’ like a prayer in church. Every few minutes, he kept glancing back, expecting Castiel to disappear and the backseat to the empty and the fever dream to be over.</p><p>Unable to restrain himself, Dean reached back. His fingers brushed Castiel’s leg.</p><p>Castiel jerked so sharply that Dean nearly swerved off the road.</p><p>“Dean?” Castiel stirred and sat up. “Are we there?”</p><p>“No, no, we still got a couple more hours,” Dean said, snatching the wheel. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” He swallowed. “You, uh, you okay back there? Y’know, you only sleep when you’re on the mend, so.”</p><p>“I’m fine, just tired,” Castiel assured him.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?”</p><p>In the rearview mirror, he watched Castiel’s brow knit together.</p><p>“Like the Empty spat me back out,” said Castiel. “Again.”</p><p>“Yeah. Gotta stop dying once a year, Cas.”</p><p>“Five times is my limit, I think.”</p><p>“Six.”</p><p>Castiel held his gaze in the mirror.</p><p>“You’ve died six times.”</p><p>The gaze broke. Castiel looked down.</p><p>“No more,” Dean said with a shuddering breath. “No more, you understand me?”</p><p>Castiel rubbed his chin. “Does Sam know?”</p><p>Dean huffed. “Let’s just say he’s gonna get a bit of a shock in the morning. I didn’t even tell him where I was going, I just grabbed the keys and bolted out the door.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. If I could fly, I would’ve been there—”</p><p>“No. No, I’m glad you called. I’m glad you thought to call instead of disappearing.”</p><p>“It…crossed my mind.”</p><p>It wasn’t a surprising confession, but it still made Dean ache indescribably. A Bob Seger song started playing over the radio. His heart kept clenching and unclenching in his chest.</p><p>He saw the moment Castiel committed. “Dean, um. About what I said before it took me to the Empty, I need to apologize…”</p><p>Dean bit on the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste metal.</p><p>In the twelve years he’d known Castiel, he’d only seen his eyes water once, right before the Empty took him. When he found the courage to look into the mirror, he saw Castiel no longer possessed whatever emotional constipation had been holding him back, and his watering eyes overflowed.</p><p>“How long have you…?” Dean asked.</p><p>Castiel’s shuddering breath told him everything. Bob Seger was halfway through Get Out of Denver before he steadied enough to allow for talking.</p><p>“Dean, I’ve made…so many mistakes, I can’t even count them,” said Castiel. “It was just a chance…I couldn’t risk taking, I couldn’t risk losing what little I had left. I didn’t want to lose it, because being your friend and having you in my life, even if it’s not—not the full realization of what I’ve been feeling—it was better than nothing at all. And if I made another mistake, if I irreparably ruined things, a friendship would be easier to piece back together. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t handle any more loss.”</p><p>Dean’s teeth sank deeper into his cheek.</p><p>“Relationships between angels and humans violate every conceivable ethical code in Heaven,” Castiel continued in a stuttering voice choked with emotion. “We were all brothers and sisters, we don’t have a need, we aren’t supposed to have that need. There’s so few angels left, it doesn’t matter anymore, but it’s just hard to turn off billions of years of laws ingrained into my mind. I know I rebelled against everything, but I thought…at least a part of me did…if I could hold onto that one thing, that one…one thing I knew I could do…”</p><p>Bob Seger finished singing. The DJ on the radio was talking about about a top fifteen countdown of the greatest songs of the 1980s. In the mirror, Castiel scrubbed his eyes clean.</p><p>“I’ve been so confused ever since I came to Earth,” said Castiel. “I’m not sure I understand humanity any better even with the time I spent as one. You were the one beacon who brought clarity and stilled my mind.”</p><p>The DJ’s song countdown began.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it far too many times and I can’t—it doesn’t fix anything. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. Sometimes I wonder whether you would’ve been better off if—if another angel raised you before me.”</p><p>Dean hit the breaks and pulled over.</p><p>He turned the keys into accessory mode, kicked the car door open, and marched to the back. It took two tries to wrench open the door. Dean stared down Castiel, whose eyes were wet, whose shoulders were locked, who looked unchanged from the night he’d first met him save for the humanlike quality of his disposition.</p><p>Dean crawled into the backseat with Castiel.</p><p>Where to begin with this mess?</p><p>He reached forward and gently grabbed the back of Castiel’s neck, then pulled him in for their lips to meet.</p><p>For Dean, it was the gentlest kiss he’d ever given and received, although he attributed that more to Castiel’s inexperience. Dean, repressed bisexual that he was, had kissed men before, but it hadn’t been like this. They had been rough and greedy, stolen in the dark and done in absolute secrecy. They hadn’t been Castiel and that made the moment meaningful.</p><p>He remembered Castiel once telling him that time was fluid. He hoped that was true, because maybe in some part of the universe, they could stay like this forever. In the back of the Impala, with no more distance between them—just heat and emotion and shattering the unspoken signals hanging there since they’d met.</p><p>Dean didn’t want to break apart, because then he’d have to use his words, but he couldn’t keep their lips locked forever. He needed the oxygen.</p><p>“Listen,” Dean said when they broke apart. He chewed his lip. “Listen, I…Cas, I’m fucked up. Sam and you and me? We’re in the big league of fucked up.”</p><p>“Is this a rejection?” Castiel asked, with no trace of defeat or surprise on his face. There would’ve had to been hope for disappointment to happen. “I’ve seen this part in romance movies before.”</p><p>“No!” Dean said. “Cas, no. If this was a rejection, I wouldn’t’ve smashed our lips together. I’m just saying that we’re fucked up and every woman I’ve loved as either died or gotten hurt. I’m saying that I’m broken, Cas.”</p><p>Castiel’s lower lip tucked under his teeth, but it didn’t hold back the unshakeable emotion in his watery eyes. They caught the light and glistened.</p><p>“I’m not…” Dean took a breath. He could hear Sam in the his mind offering advice straight from a self-help book. ‘Use your words. Communicate.’ “I’m not happy with a part of myself.”</p><p>“…Does my vessel make you uncomfortable?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“Cas. Cas, it’s not a ‘you’ problem. It’s an ugly part of myself that—that I just don’t know how to deal with.”</p><p>Castiel was quiet, brow screwed up in concentration. “If it helps, angels don’t have a gender. I’ve been in female vessels before.”</p><p>Dean swallowed thickly. “What I’m trying to say is I got baggage. I’m saying I’m bad for you, Cas.”</p><p>“Dean, that’s a far cry from the truth.”</p><p>“I changed you.”</p><p>“You did.”</p><p>“Was it for the better, though?” Dean couldn’t stand to look at Castiel. “After all the shit you’ve been through, are you happy?”</p><p>Castiel didn’t answer. Dean let him think it over and was about to interrupt when Castiel’s trembling hand took his cheek. He turned Dean’s head to look at him.</p><p>“What happiness I felt, the angel equivalent of it, came from a place of ignorance,” said Castiel.</p><p>Air stuttered into Dean’s lungs, but he held back his tears, with no small amount of effort. “I’m a shitty person, Cas. I’ve shit on you so many times. You’ve just stood there and put up with it every time and I can’t figure out why.”</p><p>“Dean, I don’t know what it’s like to be human, I couldn’t even understand it when I was one,” Castiel admitted, voice shivering. “When I’m with you, I’m as close to human as I can be. I feel in ways I was never capable of before I met you. Even with all the hurt, the slivers of happiness have been worth it and I’d suffer a thousand tortures before I’d give that up.”</p><p>“Don’t say that, man.”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.'”</p><p>“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I need nothing in return.”</p><p>“Dammit, Cas, the last thing you make me is uncomfortable. It’s the fact that I can’t say it back, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”</p><p>“You don’t have to say it.”</p><p>Dean grabbed Castiel by the shoulders and pulled him closer, their mouths meeting for the second time. The kiss was filled with warmth and quiet and all the things Dean wanted to say but never could. He couldn’t use words. He could use action. He could press into Castiel’s body, he could hold him close, he could never let him go again. Dean lowered Castiel onto the seat of the Impala.</p><p>“I love you,” Castiel whispered again in a shuddering breath as Dean came up for air.</p><p>“I know,” Dean gasped between kisses.</p><p>He felt Castiel smile against his mouth. “I understood that reference.”</p><p>When was the last time he’d been with a partner? It had been ages. Forever. Certainly before they had dragged Castiel to the Empty, and this was not the first time he’d made out in the Impala’s backseat. Castiel’s inexperience showed with the way he used too much teeth and too little force, and Dean was careful—he held back. None of his previous forays in the Impala were more consequential and he didn’t realize why until saw Castiel’s eyes shining with a quiet, bittersweet joy of having this together.</p><p>He didn’t want to wait anymore.</p><p>Dean’s gaze slide to Castiel’s collarbone, exposed through the rumpled tie and collar of his shirt.</p><p>“Yes,” said Castiel.</p><p>Dean held his face, indecisive.</p><p>“We don’t have to, but I’d say yes if you asked. I want you to know that.”</p><p>“It’s…been a long time. With a guy, I mean. It’s—It’s nothing to do with—this is the biggest cliche in the book, but it’s not you, it’s me. I told you I’m fucked up, Cas.”</p><p>“I love you anyway. I can’t help it.”</p><p>Dean didn’t deserve this. He didn’t earn any of this. What little happiness he permitted was interspersed with moments of great suffering and loss. He’d let himself have one moment. Sadness tangled with the other emotions vying for attention in his mind.</p><p>He rolled his body into Castiel’s and their lips locked. Dean pushed up his shirt, palms gliding over Castiel’s smooth and unblemished skin. His muscles contracted under his touch. They took their time, each step taken towards stripping Castiel accompanied with kisses and wandering hands. Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s neck as Dean yanked the angel’s arms out of his trench coat, then his dress shirt. Castiel removed his undershirt over his head with all the awkwardness of an angel who rarely had a reason to get undressed.</p><p>There had been countless occasions when Dean had seen Castiel shirtless, but most of the times he’d been bloody, injured, and near death. Only now could he appreciate how flawless he was. Maybe that was bias sneaking in. The sight of the steady rise and fall of Castiel’s chest, his blown-out eyes—he studied him like Michelangelo’s wet dream. Castiel looked up with a stare he could attribute to deep-seated love and trust.</p><p>Castiel shouldn’t be looking at Dean. There was something so intrinsically wrong with being looked at like he was the entire universe.</p><p>“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Castiel requested.</p><p>Dean’s smile was reflexive and brief.</p><p>“I dunno, I’m just…” Dean brushed Castiel’s bangs out of his eyes. “You’ve never been with a guy. That’s a fact, right?”</p><p>“I’ve only copulated once.”</p><p>“Okay, first off: don’t call it copulating. That’s a ground rule.” Dean frowned. “Wait. Weren’t you married?”</p><p>“To the djinn?”</p><p>“To the who? No, I’m talking about girl you married after you lost your memory.”</p><p>“Daphne,” said Castiel.</p><p>“Right. Didn’t you ever…?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Oh. Huh.”</p><p>“Is that strange?”</p><p>“Well, for a married couple, I would’ve thought you…” Dean didn’t fight Castiel as he helped peel off the layers separating their skin.</p><p>“She said she didn’t want to take advantage of me,” said Castiel.</p><p>“Good, that’s good. I hope she’s alright, wherever she is.”</p><p>“She remarried and has an infant daughter,” said Castiel.</p><p>Dean’s brow furrowed.</p><p>“I check on her once in a while,” Castiel confessed. “She doesn’t know, I’ve never appeared to her after I left.”</p><p>Dean trailed kissed up Castiel’s jawline, grinding their hips together. The slight intake of breath Castiel did sent pinpricks up his spine. He straddled Castiel’s hips and stripped off his jacket, then his shirt.</p><p>“So only once for you,” Dean surmised.</p><p>“With the Reaper,” Castiel nodded. It was curt and his expression tightened, an almost imperceptible twinge that Dean would’ve missed if he hadn’t been so intently focused on his face.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>Castiel propped himself up at his elbows. “I wish you had been there instead of her.”</p><p>“She couldn’t have been that bad.”</p><p>“It’s not how I would’ve chosen to be intimatefor the first time. She offered food and shelter and wanted something in return. From what I understood about human intimacy, I thought it would be different. That night I realized how desperation can change you.”</p><p>The confession raked through Dean’s skin like talons.</p><p>“Oh, Cas,” Dean said softly.</p><p>Castiel had spent his entire existence on Earth being taken advantage of—emotionally, spiritually, and now physically? Earth did this to him. Earth transformed a soldier of the Lord into a warped image and now that soldier looked up at Dean like he was the entire reason for his existence.</p><p>Dean bit his lip. He was as horny as fuck, but he saw through the cloud in his mind, past Castiel’s flawless body. He averted his eyes, unworthy of using it. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”</p><p>“Dean,” said Castiel. “I know the difference between you and the Reaper. If I asked you to stop, you would.”</p><p>Dean tasted metal from where he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.</p><p>“I trust you.”</p><p>Dean lost the battle to let his emotions spiral. Castiel. Bright and beautiful—trusting him after how many times they’d hurt each other.</p><p>The hips rolled together and Castiel fumbled for his belt, stripping until he lay naked on top of his discarded clothes. Dean’s hands trembled so much that Castiel had to help pull him out of what remained of his clothes, giving him a long, appreciative, glowing look as he ran his hands over his shoulders. His fingers brushed over the handprint in a way that made Dean’s soul tremble.</p><p>Their foreheads pressed together. Castiel was warm in all the right places with none of the sweat, his deft fingers passing over Dean’s nipples as if uncertain where his hands should land. Dean couldn’t stand for his eyes to be on him anymore, so he trailed kisses down his neck until Castiel’s head curved back.</p><p>When he summoned the courage to touch Castiel, a full-body shudder went through the angel and he pumped into Dean’s hand. His teeth ached at the sight and finally, finally, he smiled and felt like he meant it.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispered into Castiel’s ear. He pressed them together and Castiel threw his arms around Dean’s broad shoulders. “Are angels—” He gasped as they bucked together in just the right away. “Are angels secretly sirens or something?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean,” Castiel groaned.</p><p>“I mean—” Dean couldn’t stop the wanton moan coming out of his throat as Castiel reached between them and held them together. “I mean, fuck, I forgot what the point was.”</p><p>“Humans—ah—can sense our true forms on a subconscious level,” Castiel gasped out. “They can—it can provoke a response similar to attraction.”</p><p>“So, you’re playing an angel siren song on me right now?” Dean set the pace and kept it steady and slow. Slow enough to not overwhelm Castiel—or himself. Hot fluid dripped over his hand as he pressed him and Castiel close together.</p><p>“N—Not intentionally.”</p><p>“What do you really look like?” Dean buried his face in the crook of Castiel’s shoulder.</p><p>Castiel took a long time to respond. His breath was unsteady.</p><p>“Cas? What do you look like?”</p><p>“A wavelength,” he gasped. “Pure energy. With…” Cas’s hands knotted in the fabric of his discarded shirt, which he pulled so hard that it was bunching up under his ass. “With six wings.”</p><p>“Six? Seems like overkill.”</p><p>“You should see the ophanim.” Castiel’s voice went tense with emotion. “Should’ve. There’s so few of us left.”</p><p>Dean opened his mouth to spit out an instinctual response. Angels had been nothing but trouble since they’d flown into his life. They’d hurt Sam, they’d hurt him, they’d hurt Cas. Nevertheless, when he pulled away, profound grief clouded Castiel’s eyes.</p><p>“Hey,” said Dean. “Focus on me, okay? I’m here.”</p><p>Castiel’s smile was half-hearted.</p><p>Their pace had slowed during the talk. Dean was tired of talking—he always put his foot in his mouth. He rubbed his thumb over Castiel’s lower lip and committed.</p><p>“Don’t move,” Dean ordered.</p><p>Dean scrambled over the seat and fumbled for the glove compartment, ripping out car registration, insurance, a silver knife, a cross, hex bag, a couple more knives, and stray grains of salt. The bottle was stuffed in the back and hadn’t seen use it in well over a year. It was a cheap bottle of lube, picked up in the backwater part of the country, and half-empty.</p><p>He scrambled back into his seat, Castiel now sitting up and wide-eyed. He looked from the lube to Dean’s face. Castiel may not have been breaking a sweat, but Dean was drenched. There was no telling if it was from nerves, the horniness, or from Castiel’s presence. Dean held Castiel’s face in his hands, terrified that he might fly into the night or dragged into the Empty. He’d already lost him too many times and they were about to cross a boundary he hadn’t realized had been there until they pressed together their naked bodies.</p><p>“Uh…so who’s gonna take one for the team?” Dean asked. “If you want to.”</p><p>Castiel squeezed Dean’s forearm.</p><p>“I would like you to penetrate me,” Castiel said.</p><p>Dean snorted. The laughter exploded in short bursts at first, then rolled up from his stomach to surge out before he could reel in it. His biceps weakened and he lay flat on top of Castiel, cry-laughing into his shoulder.</p><p>“I thought that was the correct terminology,” Castiel frowned.</p><p>“Most people just say ‘fuck me,’ Cas,” Dean chortled.</p><p>“…Are you going to—?”</p><p>“Give me a minute,” Dean wheezed in between his laughter. It caught in his chest, made him dizzy with the euphoria erupting between the flashbacks to the suffering that had led to this moment.</p><p>When he came back to himself, Castiel stared right into his soul with an unblinking stare. Castiel initiated the kiss, tender and chaste.</p><p>“Fuck me,” Castiel pleaded in a whisper.</p><p>Dean’s dick regained what little hardiness it’d lost with the laughing fit.</p><p>“Say it again,” said Dean.</p><p>“Fuck me.”</p><p>Dean didn’t realize how tight he’d been holding onto the bottle of lube. He uncapped it with a flick of his thumb. The cloud of lust draped over Castiel cleared long enough for the angel to seize his arm.</p><p>“Go slow,” said Castiel. “Please.”</p><p>“We’ll go as slow as you want,” Dean affirmed. Slow was something he could do. He wasn’t sure if he had the emotional will to do it fast and rabid.</p><p>Dean never thought he’d see the day where he took an angel’s ass virginity. He imagined Castiel and the Reaper and all he could think was the place of vulnerability Castiel had been coming from during his night with her. Dean hoped Castiel wouldn’t regret a few years down the line, wondered if he was no better than the Reaper had been.</p><p>He squeezed a liberal helping of lube onto his fingers and laid Castiel down, then started trailing kisses from mouth, down his neck, then his body. The closer he got to the southern reaches, the tighter Castiel’s abdomen got, and by the time his fingers made their way to his ass, Castiel’s entire body was clenched in anticipation.</p><p>“I can’t get in when you’re this tense,” Dean said, planting some kisses up his thighs.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Castiel mumbled.</p><p>“Just try to relax. We’re taking it slow.”</p><p>Dean pushed up Castiel’s legs from behind the knees, bracing one against the backseat and resting the other ankle on his shoulder. He stroked Castiel while tracing circles around his ass, waiting for a precise moment when his guard was down long enough to breach.</p><p>“Am I going to hell for fucking an angel?” Dean asked.</p><p>Castiel’s chest rose and fell in tandem with his strokes. “I—I don’t know.”</p><p>“Don’t you angels ever get busy up there?”</p><p>“We don’t have sexual urges as you would describe—oh.”</p><p>Castiel loosened enough to let Dean push in with his index finger. As promised, he took it so. Castiel’s brow furrowed, as if trying to decide whether or not he liked the intrusion. Dean distracted him with a deep kiss and held their lips together as he sank in centimetre by centimetre. Castiel clamped down around him, then steadily, with each exploratory kiss, he relaxed enough for Dean to retract and pump back in.</p><p>It was a gradual process to get Castiel to loosen up, so slow that Dean threatened to go flaccid if they didn’t pick up the pace. Strangely, it didn’t matter to him like it might’ve in the past or with any other woman. He’d never even gone this slow with Lisa. But she was a distant memory of the way things could’ve been, not the circumstances in front of him. Not Castiel.</p><p>He pumped his finger, testing the waters, eyes never straying from Castiel’s face. For a while, Castiel was rigid, the confusion unsettling and unnerving on his face. Dean chewed his lip and debated pulling out. Then his finger curved in just the right away and the reaction was instantaneous. Castiel’s eyes blew out and a pleased gasp slipped past his lips.</p><p>Castiel, Angel of the Lord, moaned. It was the single hottest thing Dean had ever seen, hotter than a prostitute spreading her legs or the shine of sweat on Lisa’s back when she’d taken him from behind. He felt terrible thinking of other partners, but Castiel was on a different level. Maybe it was just the heat, but he could swear, if he concentrated, that there was a vibration in the surrounding air, barely perceptible if he wasn’t looking for it. Was this what happened with angels sex?</p><p>“The, uh, world won’t blow up if we do this, right?” Dean asked.</p><p>Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but Dean had the fortune (or misfortune) of hitting a spot in Castiel that made his entire body quake and arch off the seat, and there were noises coming out of him overwhelmed with lust. Dean wondered how many cardinal sins he could break in the span of a few seconds.</p><p>He couldn’t care. He didn’t. Whatever tension Castiel held onto bled off enough for Dean to insert a second finger and scissor him open with gentle precision. All the times they had hurt each other—and now Dean was transfixed by the uncompromising pleasure fluttering through Castiel. Castiel pressed the back of hand on his forehead—still clean of sweat, damn—and reached with the other to wrap around Dean, thumb swirling over the tip. The vibration grew ever stronger and this time Dean was sure he wasn’t imagining it. He felt it in his core, tightening his abs, making his scars ache.</p><p>With a jerky nod from Castiel, Dean took that as his cue and lined up.</p><p>“Slow,” Castiel breathed.</p><p>“I got you,” Dean promised.</p><p>They joined both hands—palms together, fingers interlaced. And Dean forced himself to look direct into Castiel’s eyes as he sank into him. Even as Castiel clenched tight around him and the radio flickered, he kept his attention locked on Castiel’s face, watching his eyes slowly open wider and wider, pupils dilating. Dean only managed to get the head in when Castiel gasped out for him to wait and he froze.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” Dean asked.</p><p>“A little,” said Castiel. “Give me a minute, don’t move.”</p><p>“I got you.” And Dean did.</p><p>Castiel’s chest heaved, eyes closing. He released Dean’s hand and let it wander up his bicep to his shoulder. To the handprint.</p><p>“I almost missed you,” said Castiel.</p><p>“When you got me out of hell?”</p><p>“Yes. So many of my brothers died trying to reach you.”</p><p>“But you did it.”</p><p>“I did. I was flying so fast I nearly overshot you.”</p><p>Dean smiled. “Well, you have good aim.”</p><p>“It was fate that someone would reach you. I just didn’t know it would be me.”</p><p>Dean was glad Castiel couldn’t see the smile slip off his face, but he was sure he could hear the skepticism Dean said, “Or it was just plain luck…But I’m glad it was you.”</p><p>Castiel nodded as a sign he was ready to continue. Dean permitted himself to watch the slow slide into Castiel’s body, unable to bite back the insatiable groan that rippled in the back of his throat. Castiel was deliciously, impossibly tight and warm. It took all his concentrated willpower to not start bucking his hips. Still clutching his hands, Dean situated himself in a more upright position so he could enjoy the full view of Castiel squirming on his dick. Even if the lack of sweat was a source of disappointment, every other characteristic, every detail and subtle curve of his body, made up for it.</p><p>They spent a long time just staring at each other, Castiel’s hands wandered over Dean’s chest to play with his nipples. Dean stroked Castiel leisurely and rolled his hips into him in slow, deliberate thrusts. He established a rhythm to the beat of a slow song—some tuneless melody with lyrics about hypnotic sentiments with the mind-numbing power of a siren. All the weight, all the unspoken tension between them, all blossoming in a building heat and tautness, creating a knot in his stomach. It was near-ready to snap, but Dean was determined. He didn’t increase his pace and he didn’t ravage Castiel like an animal and he didn’t want the moment to end. He wanted to watch him for an eternity.</p><p>Castiel moaned and quivered all over. Dean couldn’t be sure if he could support his own weight with the crushing heft of his fat and overburdened dick swallowed deep by Castiel’s body. It reduced Castiel to spluttering nonsense and the vibrations blurred the edge of his vision and created vibrant white sparks.</p><p>“Dean. <em>Dean</em>.” Castiel writhed, his hips rolling as he tried to get friction where Dean refused to give it. Dean held back for the sheer sentimental value of watching Castiel come for the first time on his dick. There would be no other like it because after this—if there was an after, and he realized that he was desperate, desperate for an after—it would be familiar. Now it was new, and new only lasted once.</p><p>Castiel body spasmed and clenched tight around Dean’s dick. Something held Castiel back in a vice like grip, as if unsure of what was happening. Each spot of garbled nonsense that came out of Castiel’s mouth was defined by the pain and want of pre-orgasm. Enough pleasure that it turned into desperate need. Castiel threw his arms up over his head to brace against the door to stop his head from slamming into it.</p><p>“You can let go, Cas,” said Dean, his own voice heavy. He ran his hands over Castiel’s hip bones. “I got you. You can let go.”</p><p>Castiel’s back arched delectably. His dick spasmed and streaks of white spurted over his stomach, face screwed up, mouth agape before it all just relaxed. Dean didn’t even register the radio dial swinging between stations and the flash of the headlights. The glorious picture of debauchery, the all-consuming lust of an angel releasing underneath him, was sexy because it was Cas. And it did Dean in. He lost whatever was holding him back and he curled over Castiel’s body and jackhammered into him at a pace that made Castiel scream and squeeze at the handprint scar.</p><p>It was like tasting lightning. A bang sounded from somewhere nearby. The white sparks in his eyes overwhelmed until it was blindingly white and his ears started ringing. The sound grew louder and louder until all senses were swallowed into a violent and powerful orgasm, greater than any one he’d felt before. Dean’s entire body went spasmed and his cock swelled and the pressure release, spilling into Castiel. Dean came back into his body languidly fucking the last of his release into Castiel and the shudder of Castiel’s breath.</p><p>His arms gave out and he collapsed onto Castiel. Castiel went pliant in his arms.</p><p>Dean came back to himself like he was waking from a lucid dream too vibrant and appealing to leave. Slowly he awoke, slowly he heard Castiel’s heartbeat pounding into his ear. Dean blinked the last of the sparks away and the vibrations stilled into nothing.</p><p>Castiel lay underneath him, deliciously wrecked, hair tousled, eyes glazed over with a familiar afterglow. Dean pulled out and watched his cum drip down his thighs. He held both sides of Castiel’s head.</p><p>“You okay?” Dean asked. “Talk to me.”</p><p>Castiel nodded absently. “Need…Need a minute.”</p><p>“What was that? The thing with the…vibrating.”</p><p>“Is it…not usually like that?”</p><p>“Well, not for humans. I’m guessing it’s probably an angel thing.”</p><p>“I’m sorry…”</p><p>“You’re sorry?” Dean repeated, unable to imagine what Castiel could apologize for now.</p><p>“About the car.”</p><p>“About the WHAT?!”</p><p>Dean shot upright. The radio was out, the headlights were gone, and there was smoke coming out of the engine.</p><p>“Fucking hell,” Dean cursed.</p><p>Dean pulled on his pants before falling backwards out of the door, his hands shaking as he rummaged for the flashlight and popped the hood. He couldn’t be sure whether his lack of coordination was from the sex or the panic over the Impala’s condition—it didn’t matter. It was probably both. Black smoke billowed out into the night, lit only by the glow of his flashlight, the distinct smell of oil and burning metal singeing his nostrils.</p><p>“Baby, NO!” Dean shouted. “Don’t do this to me, Baby!”</p><p>He walked in a circle in front of the Impala, running his fingers through his hair while smoke continued to belch into the night. When it was aired out enough, he tried to inspect the damage.</p><p>Dean was there for only a minute or two when Castiel appeared, barefoot and his trench coat around his shoulders. Dean thought about what it would be like to bend him over the hood and fuck him a second time before he realized he couldn’t let any sex happen on top of the Impala while it was in this condition. Dean had standards.</p><p>“Fix this,” Dean ordered.</p><p>“The car?” Castiel frowned.</p><p>“YES, THE DAMN CAR! Fix her.”</p><p>Castiel cocked his head at him in his confused puppy dog way. With a wave, the smoke cleared and the highlights flicked back on.</p><p>Dean let out the breath of pent-up energy he’d been holding in his chest and slammed the hood shut. The air felt icy under the sheen of sweat covering his body. Castiel walked out into the empty road and stared at the stars for a moment, and Dean watched, his chest cinching.</p><p>“Hey,” Dean said. “Hey, get over here before you get hit by a car.”</p><p>Castiel came. Castiel always came when called. They sat on the hood of the car, just staring at each other. He looked well-fucked and dazed but, beneath all of that, happy.</p><p>“This is not how I expected our reunion to go,” Castiel admitted.</p><p>“Yeah, me neither,” Dean confessed, although he wasn’t sure if that was the case. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d gotten that first phone call from Castiel.</p><p>“I didn’t expect to live.”</p><p>“Yeah. Me neither.”</p><p>Castiel shuffled closer to Dean until their shoulders were touching.</p><p>“Cas, I can’t make promises,” Dean said. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen. But saying that I don’t feel something here?” He sighed. “I think we’d both know that’d be a fucking lie. I’d be lying to you. I’d be lying to myself.”</p><p>Dean couldn’t keep the shudder out of his hand as he reached for Castiel’s and squeezed.</p><p>“I’m a mess.”</p><p>“Compared to other humans? Perhaps.”</p><p>“If we do a test run of whatever the hell this is..." Dean wasn't sure if was ready to call it a 'relationship' yet. It was a 'something' alright, whatever that 'something' was. "If we do a test run, you gotta know that Sam comes first."</p><p>"Of course," Castiel said like it was the most natural thing in the world.</p><p>"And—And you can’t go running off. You can’t just disappear whenever you feel like it and not answer your goddamn messages. Because if you die one more time, I swear to God or Jack or whoever the hell is up there, I’m done. Cuz I couldn’t take another loss like that, not again.”</p><p>Castiel’s eyes shone in the starlight.</p><p>"Promise me," said Dean. "And if you can't promise, then lie to me."</p><p>Castiel focused. There was no telling whether it was a lie or the truth. "I promise."</p><p>Dean exhaled. He wasn’t sure how good it did, if they could ever heal from the scars. After all the other times, after all the other messes, they’d always run back into each other. He didn't know what was ahead. If there would be peace. But for now, they sat on the hood of the Impala, Castiel resting his head on his shoulder, and gazed into the star field above.</p><hr/><p>When the sheriff found them the next morning, it was worth the thousand dollar fine for indecent exposure.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not a habitual smut writer but like. Let them love each other??? It's so easy???</p><p>Sorry if my writing is rough today, I'm a sad bisexual writing a vent fic.</p><p>(I don't know if Castiel could actually fix a car i haven't watched enough of the series just roll with it. magic car healing powers, it's not improbable right?)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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